


The Game

by midnightsummergirl



Category: Outlander (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-12-22 11:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11966298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightsummergirl/pseuds/midnightsummergirl
Summary: Sam and Cait are doing a photo shoot for Entertainment Weekly when their teasing game starts.





	The Game

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by the EW shoot and The Hating Game (by Sally Thorne).  
> I've had a horrible week and it wasn't the best week for the fandom either, so I thought we all needed something fluffy. I hope you enjoy it.

 

Sam and I wear lovely vintage clothes and strike poses for photographer Ruven Afanador from _Entertainment Weekly_ as we stand on an impressive three-masted vessel. All day, our hugs have lasted longer than needed, our touches and caresses have been more frequent and passionate than necessary, and our glances have met constantly.

 

Maybe it’s the scorching heat in Cape Town.

 

Maybe it’s the ships straight out of fairy tales.

 

Maybe it’s just us.

 

Maybe it’s just time.

 

Because suddenly, the game starts. No one initiated it, it just starts. We didn’t discuss the rules, but they’re clear. You tease the other while showing your own restraint. The more provocative or public your teasing, the more points you gain. If you show feelings or bodily reactions, you lose points. If you fully give into the other or mention the game, you lose.

 

For the next photo, Sam hugs me from behind and wraps his strong right arm around my waist. I rest my head against his firm shoulder and reach back to touch his chest. It feels good under my fingers.

 

Heat bounces off the wooden floor and the sun almost blinds us. The boat’s scent is like a drug. The potent combination of turpentine, rust, and cedar renders me dizzy.

 

Sam presses his torso up against my back and I relax into his hug. His fingers ever so lightly caress my belly so that I’m not sure if it’s my imagination playing tricks on me. Sam couldn’t smell or feel any sexier, and it’s difficult for me to stay focused.

 

I close my eyes to savor the moment. I imagine us on a secluded mountaintop without cameras, alone. I imagine him hugging me like this because he wants to, not because he has to.

 

We flirt with the camera when Sam’s hand moves up a little, and his thumb touches my breast. He must feel me flinch at his touch. Did he do this deliberately? Within a split second, his hand is back on my belly. My stomach flutters and I laugh nervously. This gives him additional points.

 

Ruven asks us to change positions. We embrace each other, our torsos touching. I turn slightly sideways so we can both look into the camera. This is my chance. I push my body into his so he can feel the heaviness of my breast. He immediately presses his lips together and repositions his body.

 

I don’t have the upper hand for long. He brushes away a loose strand of my hair and his fingers nonchalantly caress my cheek while doing so. He caresses me like a lover would and I melt at his touch. Damn him.

 

During the five-minute break, Sam drinks lots of water, and of course, he has to do it like the model of a Coke Light ad. His head rests against the mast, his muscles twitch, and his sweaty skin glistens. The sun beats down on us with unrestrained brutality, which makes Sam’s loose shirt cling to him like a second skin, and leaves no room to imagine what’s underneath.

 

I can’t just sit here and drool all over him. I can’t let him win.

 

_Game on, Sam._

 

I get up and stride toward him until we’re face to face. I lean in to straighten his collar and casually brush my fingers against his neck. We’re very close. He smells of fresh soap and cotton. Our hot breaths mingle and we stare at each other and listen to the sails flapping in the wind.

 

I slide my fingers across his jaw, and his whole body stiffens for a moment. My cheeks burn. I look at him with a gleam in my eyes. “Your collar was crooked.”

 

It’s his time to lean in. His mouth is at my ear and his lips lightly touch it. My heart beats faster.

 

“I think yer crooked.” His husky voice makes me tingle in all the right places. _Well played, Sam._

 

I take two deep breaths to regain my composure. “No, Sam, I won’t have sex with you below deck,” I say loudly. Everyone stares at him in shock and amusement. I’m thrilled at my victory and walk away, grinning from ear to ear.

 

The interview is a welcome change from the strenuous photo shoot. I make sure to lick my lips and keep my mouth slightly open whenever I look at Sam. Then I explain for at least five minutes how we all like getting physical on set. He avoids looking at me after that.

 

_Ten points for Gryffindor._

 

* * *

 

Back in the studio, I get ready for the night in the little dressing room that was assigned to me. After a long shower to get all the dirt from the lagoon shoot out of my hair, I go for shiny and impossibly tight leather pants and a flowy black top. I dismiss the idea of wearing a dress because I want him to notice me as Cait, not Claire. The red lipstick and shimmery eye makeup I apply should further my cause.

 

I’m straightening my hair when someone knocks.

 

“Come in,” I say and open the door.

 

Sam stands in the door and leans against the doorframe. His delicious chest is bare, his body only covered by a towel wrapped low around his hips—low enough to reveal a hint of those V-shaped lines of his lower abs. Some water is still running down his chest. My stomach drops.

 

“I just wanted to ask—when are we meeting at the Oblivion?”

 

“At nine.” I have to stop staring or he’ll notice. I can’t believe he came by just to win points. What a competitive dork.

 

“I better get going then. Unless yer not finished checking me out?” He winks at me.

 

Great, so he did notice. I playfully push him out of the room and quickly close the door behind him before I sink to the floor. I put my cold hands on my flushed cheeks and sigh. I’m a tough, rational woman. Why does he make me feel like a schoolgirl? This game messes with my head. It needs to stop right now, but I also want it to go on forever. I hate that it stirs up feelings for him that I was carefully hiding for years. I need to push his buttons tonight to find out whether this is just a fun little game for him that he plays with all his girls.

 

* * *

 

When Sam finally enters the bar, it’s almost 10:30 p.m. He warmly greets everyone at the table but me. Without even looking at me properly, he acknowledges me last with a quick ‘hi’ and sits down next to the young girls at the other end of the table. They giggle at everything he says, which annoys me even more. As he talks, he even touches the arm of one of the bimbos.

 

My outfit, my makeup, my hair, it’s all just for him. Ever since I’d arrived, I’d been staring at the entrance of the Oblivion like an idiot, waiting for him to appear. And he doesn’t care at all that I’m here. It shouldn’t, but it crushes me.

 

I try to act casual, but the empty seat I reserved for Sam mocks me. _That’s it. I’m getting drunk._ I get up and walk to the bar. A strong gin and tonic will make me feel better.

 

It doesn’t take long until a handsome young man—introducing himself as Eric—approaches me. My whole life has revolved around Sam for years. Not tonight. He doesn’t deserve it. Tonight, Eric will do.

 

While Eric talks to me, my fingers play with the tiny water droplets that formed on the outside of my glass. Sam might not even notice Eric’s interest, but I have my back to him and cannot let him catch me looking at him. I flip my hair and twirl it, not knowing if I’m doing it to catch Eric’s or Sam’s attention.

 

If Sam’s watching, I have to show him what he’s missing out on. Well, if he even cares. I order two tequila shots and wet my wrist with the lime. Eric puts salt on my wrist and licks it off.

 

Suddenly, Sam stands in front of me. His eyes smolder with something I’ve never seen before, something between anger and lust.

 

He shoves Eric to the side. “I cannae blame a lad for trying, but she’s with me.”

 

_I am?_

 

“Sam, what do you think you’re doing?”

 

“I have a theory that I need to test.” He grabs my waist and pushes me against the bar, firmly grinding his body into mine.

 

Eric protests at first, but gives up when I encourage Sam’s behavior by smirking and sinking into him.

 

Sam brushes my hair aside and pulls down the strap of my top, which exposes my bare neck and shoulder. He wets my collarbone with the lime, sprinkles salt on it, and puts the lime between my lips.

 

We’re both breathing fast. The ceiling fan hums above us, but the air is still hot and thick, and the high humidity encases us both. Sam’s lust-filled eyes ask me for permission and I nod.

 

After that, there’s no stopping him. He licks my collarbone and slowly nibbles and kisses his way up my neck. As he sucks it, I moan into his ear. He kisses me aggressively until he’s undoubtedly leaving me with a hickey to mark me as his possession.

 

He knocks Eric's shot back, his body still pinning me to the bar, and bites into the lime wedge in my mouth. He purposely bites my lip in the process, and I whimper. Heat radiates off of his body and sets mine on fire.

 

“Sam, everyone’s watching.”

 

“Good.” He smiles the warmest of smiles, runs his hands up the column of my neck, and threads his fingers into my hair. He draws me toward his lips and kisses me softly. My eyes flutter closed and I solely focus on his full silky lips against mine. I can’t believe he’s kissing me. Sam Heughan is kissing me, not Claire, in front of everyone.

 

He deepens the kiss and the tip of his tongue softly strokes my parted lips. A surge of excitement shoots through me, and I eagerly open my mouth, inviting him. I taste the alcohol and the acidity of the lime on his tongue as he explores my mouth. I caress his cheeks and his stubble prickles my fingers. We kiss each other passionately until we’re both panting.

 

“Sam, I think you just lost the game.”

 

“What game?”

 

I giggle and kiss him again.


End file.
